A Secret Only Fire Can Tell
by NarutoCraze
Summary: Arriving at Bree, Frodo and the hobbits head straight for the inn of The Prancing Pony. When there, they come upon the ranger known as Strider and befriend him. They also make friends with another stranger who holds a secret that will destroy Frodo.
1. Coming to Bree

In the shadows, the hobbits finally arrived at the gate of Bree. The rain poured on them, weighing them down in pure strength and heart. Frodo led the way, followed by his hobbit friends Meriadoc Brandybuck (Merry), Peregrin Took (Pippin), and Samwise Gamgee.  
  
  
"Come on!" Frodo said, his face and hair soaked from the rain. They followed the him to the door which led them into the heart of Bree, where their destination lay: The Inn of the Prancing Pony.   
  
  
Knocking on the door, Frodo waited for an answer. Immediatly, a rough-looking man opened a small, wooden, window at the top of the door. Seeing nothing, he closed it back. But soon after, he opened another window that met the hobbits' eyes.  
  
  
"What do you want?" the gatekeeper said roughly and cynical, trying to meet their eye.  
  
  
"We're heading for the Prancing Pony." Frodo said, sounding as if in distress.  
  
  
There was a pause between them until the gatekeeper spoke again.  
  
  
"Hobbits!" he boomed. "Four hobbits! What business brings you to Bree?" he asked curiously, opening the door now to stare.  
  
  
"We wish to stay at the inn. Our business is our own." Frodo said wearily, wanting more than anything to get out of the depressing rain and to see the bright face of Gandalf the Grey.  
  
  
"Alright, young sir. I meant no offense." the gatekeeper replied innocently, letting the hobbits' through. "'Tis my job to ask questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful!" But Frodo and the rest did not hear him. They were too preoccupied with trying to get around without being tripped over or stepped upon by the Big Folk. Coming up the cobble stone path, they looked round them with wonder and fear. Frodo just expected to see one of those black riders staring out of one of the windows of the buildings, following his every move. Finally, they made their way to the door of the Prancing Pony. As they entered a shadow crawled over the gate.  
  
  
  
Coming in, they were all glad to finally be out of the pouring rain. As soon as they entered, they were surrounded by loud noise, talk and laughter of the Big People filled their small ears. Making their way to the front desk, Frodo looked for the keeper of the inn.   
  
  
  
"Excuse me?" Frodo said, trying to be loud so he could be heard oevr the many voices.  
  
  
Leaning over the desk came a cheery-eyed, rather weary-looking and fat, man. Nothing though, struck Frodo with any queer feeling about the innkeeper.  
  
  
"Good evening, little masters!" he happily greeted to them. "I am the innkeeper of the Prancing Pony and am known as Barliman Butterbur. If you're seeking accomadation, we've got some nice, cozy, hobbit-sized rooms available, Mr. uh-"  
  
  
Frodo paused for a moment, remember the warning of Gandalf.  
  
  
********  
  
"You'll have to leave the name of Baggins behind you. That name is not safe, outside the Shire."  
  
  
********  
  
But that was not the only reason he paused. He felt as if someone was studying him, watching him. He shook his head of the thought.  
  
  
"Underhill. My name is Underhill."  
  
  
"Underhill." Butterbur replied, pondering the name for a moment.  
  
  
"We're friends of Gandalf the Grey. Can you tell him we've arrived?"  
  
  
"Gandalf? Gandalf?" Butterbur thought intensly for a minute, but then it came to him. "Ohhhh yes!" he said slowly. "I remember, elderly chap, big gray beard, pointy hat." he paused and the happy expression on his face became a puzzled one. "Not seen him for six months."  
  
  
Worry and shocked was immediately sketched into the hobbits' faces.  
  
  
"What do we do now?" Sam asked quietly, his breath now quickened.  
  
  
********  
  
  
The hobbits sat at a table, waiting and watching for their friend. Or at least Frodo and Sam were. Merry and Pippin were enjoying good, deep mugs of beer. Merry was up at the bar and Pippin sat with Frodo and Sam. Sam sat there, staring empty at his drink. Frodo looked at his friend adn tried his best to cheer him.  
  
  
"Sam. He'll be here. He'll come." Frodo said quietly.  
  
  
Right then, Merry came back through the crowd; getting in the way in many men, causing many curses to be said.  
  
  
Merry sat down with the the hobbits, bringing with him a rather large mug. Smiling, he showed it in the face of Pippin.  
  
  
"What's that?" Pippin said, staring at the drink, amazed.  
  
  
"This my friend, is a pint." Merry replied, smiling big.  
  
  
"It comes in pints? I'm getting one!" And Pippin got up and rushed off to the bar, slightly drunk.  
  
  
"You've had all half already!" Sam yelled, though it was no use. Pippin had already made it to the bar.  
  
  
Sam notices a man sitting in the corner, watching them.  
  
  
"That fellow's done nothin' but starin' at us since we've arrived." Sam whispered to Frodo, watching the stranger.  
  
  
Frodo looked up, now noticing the stranger who was, indeed, staring at them. He was clothed in a dark, green cloak, his black boots, caked with mud, where worn in. His hood covered all his face and only his smoking pipe provided light to show only his keen, grey eyes.  
  
  
Frodo pulled Barliman aside.  
  
  
"Excuse me? That man in the corner. Who is he?"  
  
  
Barliman looked over, but quickly turned away.  
  
  
"He's one of them rangers. Dangerous folk they are. And if I'm not mistaken, I think it's just my luck that two of 'em are here. I don't know where the other is, but he's one 'em. What his right name is, I've never heard. But round here, he's known as Strider."  
  
  
"Strider." Frodo said, drifting off into his own thoughts. But he then continued. "And the other? Can you tell me his name?" Frodo asked, quite interested now.  
  
  
"The other one everyone knows as Aniron." Butterbur said nervously.  
  
  
"Isn't that Elvish? That name; what does it mean?" Frodo asked inquisitively.  
  
  
"Yes, it is Elvish, Master Underhill. And if I'm right again, it means desire. The men of Bree nicknamed the ranger Aniron. Why an Elvish name? That one I haven't a-" But Butterbur didn't finish because he was beckoned at another table.  
  
  
"Half a moment, if you will!" he said to Frodo, then was quickly off.  
  
  
Frodo slowly drifted back into his thoughts. In his fingers, he twirled the Ring. Shutting his eyes, his thoughts became dense, foggy, and thick in his mind. It seemed he was now in a world all to himself. He was alone, but for one voice, calling to him.  
  
  
"Baggins." the voice whispered to Frodo. He did not realize it, but the Ring was calling to him, tempting him to put it on. "Baggins. Baggins. Baggins! Baggins!"  
  
  
"Baggins?" Pippin's voice rang out from the bar. At the sound of his name, Frodo awoke, alerted now. He looked round, trying to find the foolish, and drunk, hobbit. His eyes now layed upon Pippin at the bar, mingling with the Big People.  
  
  
"Sure I know Baggins. He's over there." Pippin pointed to Frodo, who now was alert and frightened. "Frodo Baggins." he said booming, obviously enjoying the much attention he was getting. "He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side. and my third cousin twice removed on his father's side, if you follow me!"  
  
  
Frodo jumped quickly from the table and ran over to the bar where Pippin sat, talking as if they still were in the Shire, at Bag End.   
  
  
"Pippin!" he yelled, as he reached out for his friend. Suddenly, as he grabbed the hobbit's arm, he tripped over one of the men's boot, up at the bar.  
  
  
"Steady on!" Pippin says, watching Frodo fall to the floor. But as he fell, he forgot the Ring was still in his hands. Up it flew, and all Frodo could do was watch and wait for its coming down. As he catched it, it somehow slipped upon his finger, bringing him into the shadow world. Before everyone's eyes at the Prancing Pony, Frodo disappeared. Strider leaned up, now interested on the event. At that moment, a cloaked stranger walked in. They looked round, and just like Strider, nothing of them could be seen except their eyes. In the dimly lit drinking room, their light brown eyes followed the empty space at which all gawked at. As they looked up, Strider was now set back, unnocticed. The cloaked stranger began walking slowly to the ranger, keeping their eyes upon the empty space.  
  
  
The next chapter is coming VERY SOON! So, please look for it! Also, PLEASE REVIEW SINCE THIS IS A NEW STORY! Thank you! ^_^ 


	2. The Ranger Comes Forth

In the dimly lit drinking room, their light brown eyes followed the empty space at which all gawked at. As they looked up, Strider was now set back, unnocticed. The cloaked stranger began walking slowly to the ranger, keeping their eyes upon the empty space.  
  
  
********  
  
Opening his eyes, Frodo found himself in a completely different world; a world consumed by shadow, fear, and hatred. He looked around bewildered and in fear. Turning around, Frodo meets the gaze of an immense, singular orb, a lidless eye, wreathed in flame. Wanting to get away Frodo began to slowly back away in terror. The Eye of Sauron stared down hard upon the small, helpless hobbit. Suddenly, a darkening voice is heard: the voice of Sauron.  
  
  
"You cannot hide! I see you!" the voice whispered hoarsely. "There is no life in the void, only death!"   
  
  
Frodo, terrified, backed away from the Eye. Groping for the Ring, Frodo found he could not break his gaze from the Eye.   
  
  
********  
  
  
Finally, he wrenched it off, reappearing with a sigh, under a table. As he rest his backl and head against the hard table to take a breather, a firm hand grasp him, pulling the weary hobbit from out under the table.  
  
  
"Ah!" Frodo gasped, surprised and frightened.  
  
  
"You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr. 'Underhill' "the stranger said harshly, pinning Frodo up against the wall. Frodo looked into the eyes of the dark, weathered man. Of course, he only got a glance at him before the poor, defenseless hobbit was thrown up the stairs roughly.   
  
  
The cloaked stranger that had entered moments before Frodo's disappearence watched as Strider tossed the hobbit around. Pace now quickening, they followed the ranger's footsteps up the stairs. No one took notice.  
  
  
Flinging open a door, Strider tossed the hobbit into his room. Stumbling, Frodo hit the wooden floor, but quickly regained his balance and jumped to his feet. Putting his back to the wall, he watched the ranger intensely, his breath becoming heaver. Finally he spoke.  
  
  
"What do you want?" Frodo asked, his voice quivering.  
  
  
"A little more caution from you." Strider replied grimly. "That is no trinket you carry." The hood of his cloak covered his face entirely now.  
  
  
"I carry nothing." Frodo replied, now more alerted than ever.  
  
  
"Indeed." Strider replied quickly, walking over to the windows where the candles lay lit. As he spoke, he put the candles out with his fingertips swiftly.  
  
  
"I can avoid being seen if I want. But to disappear entirely," Strider threw back his hood, revealing a head of shaggy, dark hair and a pair of keen, grey eyes, "that is a rare gift."  
  
  
"Who are you?" Frodo asked, watching Strider's every move.  
  
  
"Are you frightened?"  
  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
"Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you." Strider replied. But a that second, the door burst open. Walking in calmly, was the cloaked stranger.  
  
  
"I've been looking for you." the stranger said in a low voice, paying no attention to Frodo.  
  
  
"Aniron." Strider replied, still watching Frodo from the corner of his eye.  
  
  
"Where were you when he put It on?" the stranger asked, still, nothing could be seen of them except their eyes.   
  
  
Strider ignored the question, now his eyes on Aniron, fully. He stared for a minute and then a sly smile came to his face.  
  
  
"Why do not reveal yourself?"   
  
  
Aniron stood for a minute, silent and unmoving.  
  
  
"Be iest lin. (According to your wish.)" Aniron said, making no effort to remove their cloak.  
  
  
Frodo stood against the wal, listening and watching the two. At that moment, he finally realized who Aniron was.  
  
  
"He's the other ranger Butterbur told me about." Frodo said aloud accidentally.  
  
  
"He?" Strider asked, looking at the hobbit. Frodo froze, not knowing what to say. Aniron slowly reached up to the hood that covered the face and lifted it off. In the moonlight, Frodo saw the face of a young woman. From the little light, Frodo could see that she was much to the liking of Strider in features. In her face showed that she had taken much weathering. What seemed strange to Frodo was her hair. The hair of Aniron stood dark in the light. But unlike Strider who had some flecks of gray, she had streaks of gold. Frodo had never seen this before. Her light brown eyes met the curious gaze of the hobbit. She smiled softly, brushing away the hair that fell in her face. Coming to her knees, she spoke softly to Frodo.  
  
  
"Hello Frodo. I am Aniron." she smiled at the bewildered hobbit, staring into his eyes. "I hope my friend. here, hasn't caused you too much worry." she added.  
  
  
Frodo felt himself smiling, and also even more curious. Was she an elf? She certainly reminded Frodo if one. He wanted to ask, but that would be impolite. So, all he did was nod his head.  
  
  
Aniron got back to her feet and began talking with Strider again.  
  
  
"As I was saying before, I have been looking for you. I came upon Gandalf on the road and he told me you would need help."  
  
  
"Gandalf? When did you talk to Gandalf?" Frodo interrupted.  
  
  
"It was some days ago. I was in search of Strider before I ran into the wizard, but to answer your question, it was about five days ago."  
  
  
A look of worry immediately sketched itself into Frodo's face. Strider looked away to the window. As far as his eye could go, he thought he saw shadows moving in the distance.  
  
  
"I've been searching for you. I left Gondor about two, maybe three weeks ago. I need your help. We need your help. Not only that but," Aniron paused. Looking into Strider's eyes, she saw the anxiety and resistance building up. She continued.  
  
  
"Le aphadar aen. (You are being followed.)" she added darkly, the shadows now coming on to her face. "I have seen five of the Nazgul on the road. And now that Frodo has put on the Ring, they know. They are coming to Bree as we spe-"  
  
  
At that moment, the door swung open. Strider and Aniron drew their swords quickly. In the doorway stood Merry, Pippin, and Sam. Sam held his fists up in a fighting position which made Aniron laugh aloud.  
  
  
"Stand off! Or I'll have you, Longshanks!" he yelled, being as strong as Frodo had ever seen him.  
  
  
"You have a stout heart, little hobbit. But that will not save you." Strider said grimly, putting his sword back into its sheath. "You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo. They are coming."  
  
  
Look forward to the next chapter COMING REALLY, REALLY SOON! Also, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you! ^_^ 


	3. Talk Between Rangers

Sam stood motionless, his upper lip quivering slightly, his fists still ready to throw a punch if needed. Merry and Pippin stood their ground behind Sam; Merry prepared to fight with a lit candle sticks and Pippin backing Sam up with strength.  
  
Aniron smirked in a gentle voice, her sword clanking in the iron sheath as she slid it in. The fire that the candles in Merry's hands glowed and reflected in her light brown eyes. Strider shook his head, backing up to Frodo; laying his hand upon the hobbit's shoulder as he began to speak to Sam and the rest.  
  
"Put your shield and guard down, Master Hobbit." Strider said, meeting the angry, but frightened, gaze of Samwise. "There is no need for fighting; your master is unharmed." Now a inviting smile slid across the ranger's face and he stepped away from Frodo, allowing his friends to come and check him. Aniron stood by the back wall, unnoticed by the hobbits, peering out the window into the darkness outside the city. Strider glanced toward her, watching her. Finally, he walked to Aniron, talking to her in a low voice.  
  
  
"Mabathon Beriain na i hir hyn na Rivendell. (I will take the Hobbits to the river, then to Rivendell.)" Strider whispered in Aniron's ear. She turned to him slowly, glancing out of the corner of her eye to the darkness outside the window. Finally, she spoke.  
  
"I worry," she began, a slight quaking in her voice. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then began again. "I worry for you and your journey with the hobbits. I Ulaer tolo. (The Ringwraiths are coming.)"  
  
"They are only drawn to the power when he has It on. He took It off almost as quick as it was on." Strider replied, trying to comfort his friend.  
  
"Where were you?" Aniron demanded swiftly and slightly coldly.  
  
"There was nothing I could I do to stop him. He ran after the hobbit over there," Strider pointed to Pippin who was talking in the circle of the hobbits. "Peregrin. He was drunk and was saying too much. Frodo tried to stop him, so he ran to him at the bar. The hobbit slipped on one of the men's boot and the Ring was in his hand. It put itself on his finger, drawing him to the Shadow World." Strider said quietly, lowering his voice even more so as the hobbits heard nothing of their conversation.  
  
Aniron nodded, following Strider's every word. She looked away from him to the window once more, then talk to the ranger again.  
  
"Dartho guin Beriain. Andelu i ven. (Stay with the Hobbits. The road is very dangerous.)" Aniron said quietly.  
  
  
"We shall rest here for the night and we'll set out tomorrow at dawn; have an early breakfast." Strider looked out the corner of his eye and noticed Sam was observing the both of them very intensely and suspiciously. Because he did not want them to hear his conversation with Aniron, he talked to her in nothing but Elvish.  
  
"Manke naa lye omentien? (Where are we meeting?)" he asked Aniron. She looked at him in confusion for a minute, then replied.  
  
"Manke? (Where?)" she asked confused. "Im u auta. (I am not leaving.)" Aniron said.  
  
Strider gave her a strange look and began to speak, but Aniron cut him off.  
  
  
"I'm staying." she said quietly. "I'm going with you and Hobbits tomorrow morning."  
  
"But-" Strider was unable to finish his sentence because Aniron cut him once again.  
  
  
"I'll stay with you until you reach Weathertop. I will take my leave then and head to Rivendell on my own. I'll spread the word of your arrival so everything will be set up when you come." Aniron said, a smile coming upon her face.  
  
Strider returned the small smile and nodded his head, agreeing with the terms. Strider turned away, walking to where the Hobbits were talking and chattering. When he approached, they all became silent.  
  
"Well, it seems there's come a decision to make, my friends." Strider spoke.  
  
"And what decision is that?" Frodo asked, much curious now. Sam still did not trust Strider or Aniron.   
  
"And since when do you and her make decisions we don't have any part in?" Sam butted in.  
  
"Oh, but you're wrong, Master Gamgee." Aniron spoke, walking calmly to where they all stood. "This has everything to do with you, Master Baggins, Master Brandybuck, and Master Took!" she added delightfully, smiles spreading across her face.  
  
"Go on." Sam replied, still not trusting of either. Strider smiled slightly and went forth with Samwise's request.  
  
"Firstly, you all have to agree on something. If all of you do not, then I am afraid nothing will work." Strider said grimly. As Strider opened his mouth to continue, the door, again, was bursted open. Both Strider and Aniron jumped into the shadows of the room. In the doorway stood old, forgetful Butterbur; in his hand there was a envelope, addressed to Frodo.  
  
Hope you're liking it! LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT CHAPTER COMING VERY, VERY SOON! Also, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!!! Thank you! ^_^ 


	4. They Are Coming

"Well, Mr. Underhill, you've made quite a fuss in my inn tonight. Busting up my pots and pans, disturbing my customers!" Butterbur said quite reluctantly, though showing frustration.  
  
"I'm terribly sorry!" Frodo apologized, a sheepish look coming to his face. "I think I might have had a little too much to drink. Though, I am better now."  
  
"Well, let's have no more at that again!" Butterbur replied, changing his grim expression to a tired one. He stood there for a moment, as if thinking of what to say next. Finally, during the awkward silence, Butterbur spoke.  
  
"Ah!" he boomed. "I almost forgot what I came here for! I do that alot, you know! Always people shouting my name, but that's what an inn-"  
  
"What was it that you wanted?" Frodo interrupted.  
  
"Oh yes! Forgive me! Yes now, I have something for you. See, it's a letter for you. I couldn't just give it to you when you first came because he told me to make sure it was THE Frodo Baggins, Mr. Baggins!" Butterbur said, his face a cherry red. "So, I waited and watched you and finally I decided it was you. He also gave me a desciption of you, you know!"  
  
"Who is he?" Frodo said, reaching for his letter.  
  
"Oh, my word! There I go again, talking before explaining!" Butterbur laughed. "Anyways, it was....." Butterbur paused for a minute, thinking deeply. Finally, it came to him. "Oh yes! Gandalf the Grey!" he shouted.  
  
"Gandalf?" Frodo said, very alert now. "When did he write this?"  
  
"Oh, it was a long time ago. Last time I saw him, I suppose. He told me, 'Now Barliman! Make sure to deilver this to Frodo Baggins! THE Frodo Baggins!" But, I'm afraid, little Master, that it was suppose to be mailed to you about a few months ago. You see, I never got around to doing it and you were suppose to come to Bree, so I kept a sharp eye out for you!" Butterbur said, proud of his memory at the moment.  
  
"Several months ago?" Frodo said, impatience growing in his voice.  
  
"I am sorry, Master Baggins! It just.....I....oh! I 've really done it this time! When that wizard comes back he'll turn all my ale and good beer sour and maybe even.....to me....." Butterbur shivered at the thought as it crossed his mind. "And also, the reason I waited was because there was someone that kept asking for you."  
  
"Asking for me?" Frodo said, now very alert and frightened.  
  
"Oh yes! It was that ranger, I'm afraid! That Strider! When you arrived and was up in your room, that longshank was asking for you; practically begging me to let him see you. But I refused him!" Butterbur said proudly. "He won't get in, to that I swear!"  
  
  
"Then if I were you, Frodo, I wouldn't take him up on his swear." Strider said, coming forward into the light, revealing himself to Butterbur. Barliman jumped with fright while Strider grinned slightly, amused at his expense.  
  
"What?" Butterbur stuttered. "How did you get in?"  
  
"With no help from you." Strider replied, meeting Butterbur's fearful gaze.  
  
"It's okay." Frodo interrupted. "I invited him in. I wanted to talk to him in private. Thank you for looking out for me, though Barliman." Frodo gave a weak smile to the innkeeper who stood motionless. He handed the letter to Frodo, his hands quaking. Finally, he broke the ranger's stare, nodded nervously to Frodo and his companions, returning the weak smile, and head for the door.  
  
"Goodnight to you all! Sleep well!" he whispered, and was out the door, hurriedly. Frodo gave a chuckle and Strider eased up, shaking his head at Barliman: the fat, forgetful innkeeper of The Prancing Pony.  
  
Aniron watched from the shadows the little halflings. She looked upon them with wonder. What strength they had! For she had heard tales of them, but had seen very few. It seems they were lost in the songs and tales of old reaching to Gondor. At that moment, a strange feeling overcame her. Fear passed before her very eyes; before, it lay hidden and out of site in the corners of her mind. But now, it was released. Looking to the window where night had fallen, a feeling of anxiety grew deep within her; growing alongside her fears.   
  
Suddenly, coming from her thoughts, in the distance of the hills before the Southern Gate of the Brandywine Bridge, shadows moved along the ground. Aniron looked forward, pressing her face close to touching the cold window itself. The dark shadows were moving fast, and in the direction of Brandywine Bridge. She gazed intensely, focusing on them, studying what she could. Suddenly, in her ears she no longer heard the small talk between the Hobbits. She no longer heard Strider's whisperings. Only silence lingered in the air. She stood for a moment, listening only to her soft breaths of air; it was soon broken.  
  
The shriek of them, was heard in the piercing silence of Aniron's ears.  
  
"Aragorn! Ulaer!" she yelled, stepping quickly from the shadows of the window. Strider turned his head to her, looking at her strangely. Walking calmly, he strode to Aniron, avoiding to look out of what she stared to.  
  
"The Nazgul?" he whispered, lowering his eyes to the floor.  
  
"They know where It is. They feel its presence right now." Aniron paused, waiting for Strider to meet her eyes. Finally, he gave in to her will. "They're coming to Bree."   
  
Hope you're liking it! LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT CHAPTER COMING VERY, VERY SOON! Also, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you! ^_^ 


	5. Small Talk Among Hobbits and Rangers

The hobbits stood, quite bewildered at what was going on. Sam stood, very much alerted now, thinking among himself. Finally he spoke up.  
  
"Mr. Frodo!" he whispered, gather Frodo, Merry, and Pippin into a small circle. "What's going on?" Frodo looked to his gardener with worry in his eyes and replied.  
  
"I don't know, Sam."   
  
"Mr. Frodo, what are you doing? Why are you trusting them? This Strider and Aniron! Who are they?" Sam asked anxiously.  
  
All Frodo could do was shake his head; that was the best reassurance he could give to his friend. Taking the letter before him, he opened it carefully. Inside there was a note, written in delicate handwriting: Frodo instantly knew it as Gandalf's. He began to read the letter aloud.  
  
"Dear Frodo,  
  
  
  
Bad news has reached me here. I must go off at once. You had better leave Bag End soon, and get out of the Shire before the end of July at the latest. I will return as soon as I can; and I will follow you, if I find that you are gone. Leave a message for me here, if you pass through Bree. You can trust the landlord (Butterbur). You may meet a friend of mine on the Road: a Man, lean, dark, tall, by some called Strider. He knows our business and will help you. Make for Rivendell. There is hope we may meet again. If I do not come, Elrond will advise you.  
  
Your in haste  
  
Gandalf  
PS. Do NOT ise It again, not for any reason whatever! Do not travel by night!  
PPS. Make sure that he is the real Strider. There are many strange men on the roads. His true name is Aragorn.  
All that is gold does not glitter,  
Not all those who wander are lost;  
The old that is strong does not wither,  
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.  
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,  
A light from the shdaows shall spring;  
Renewed shall be the blade that was broken,  
The crownless again shall be king.  
  
PPPS. I hope Butterbur sends this promptly. A worthy man, but his memory is like a lumber-room: things wanted always buried. If he forgets, I shall roast him. Fare well!"  
  
Frodo passed the letter around. Strider and Aniron paused their conversation and walked to the Hobbits. Sam eyed them both curiously and then began the questioning.  
  
  
  
"How do we know that you're the real Strider? The one Gandalf speaks of." Sam asked, a queer gleam coming to his eye. "You never mentioned Gandalf once. One would think that if you were trying to get out trust, you would say at least that you knew Gandalf!"  
  
"Would you have believed me anyway?" Strider replied.  
  
"You might be a play-acting spy, for all I can see, trying to get us to go with you. And Aniron was not EVEN mentioned in the letter. How do we know she's not for working under Sauruman? Or you? You might have done in the real Strider and took his clothes. What have you to say to that? Both of you!" Sam tensed up, feeling very strong at the moment, and very proud of thinking of the safety of Frodo.  
  
"A stout fellow, you are. But my only answer to you, Samwise Gamgee is this: If I had killed the real Strider, I could kill you. And I should have killed you already without so much talk. If I was after the Ring, I could have it - NOW!" Strider suddenly grew very tall and frightening.   
  
Sam stood awed and frightened, unable to move. Suddenly, a feeling, unlike ever before, surged through his body. For just those few seconds, Sam felt afraid. Not afraid in the sense of being in the presence of a Black Rider, but more like.....trembling in the presence of a king. He shook it away quickly, once again eyeing the rangers.  
  
"But I am the real Strider." Strider replied softly, coming to his knees to meet the hobbits' eyes. "And I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn."  
  
"So the verses apply with your name?" Frodo asked, starting to feel comforted.  
  
"Yes." Aragorn said. "All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost." he added with a smile.  
  
"And what about her?" Merry interrupted. All eyes were drawn to Aniron who stood alone. Immediately, she looked away.  
  
"For now, my friends," Aragorn paused, looking to her, "she is Aniron." Then, Aragorn came closer to the hobbits, pulling them in a circle to his face. "Do not be fooled by the nickname the men of Bree have given her. There is more to her, then meets the eye. She is a ranger, just like me, if that's comforts you." he whispered.  
  
"Not really. We know more about you than her." Pippin interrupted.  
  
"Do not be fooled by the masks she wears, Master Took. She is....." Aragorn paused, searching for the right words. "...she is just like me. That is all I can say now." Finally, Aniron walked to the circle that was excluding her.  
  
"Something I need to know about?" Aniron interrupted, breaking the circle up. An inviting smile was now spread across her face.  
  
"And to comfort you, Master Samwise, I have not, and would not ever, work under the Dark Lord. Trust me Samwise, and the rest of you," she paused, directing her gaze at Frodo. "Telin le thaed.....I've come to help you."  
  
"Are you an elf?" Frodo said, surprised by his curiosity.  
  
Aniron sighed and let out a slight chuckle.  
  
"No." she replied simply. Aragorn looked to her quite queerly. She retrieved his gaze and held it for a moment, but then broke away.  
  
"It's getting late." Strider said. "We need to rest because tomorrow at dawn we leave. I suggest you bring your things in my room." The hobbits looked round to each other in confusion, but then all agreed that Strider would know best.  
  
********  
  
Outside of Bree the rain beat down upon the houses, stores, and few people who were out. Outside the gate, shadows began coming nearer and nearer. Finally, their shape became clear.  
  
  
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	6. The Nazgul

In his guard house, the gatekeeper sat, getting out of the rain. Half awake, thinking he was dreaming, he thought he heard the hoofs of a galloping horse, coming to the gates of Bree.  
  
Stirring and grumbling, he hopped from his sitting stool, very unhappy about the late night visitor interrupting his sleep. Coming to the gate, the rain poured down upon him as he reached for the tiny window that led his eyes to the world outside of this small, but lively, town.  
  
"Who's out there?" he commanded, looking through the window. A horrifying expression came to his face as he saw them speeding to the gate, having no intent to stop. The gatekeeper, unfortunately, was not quick enough. Barging the gate down, all nine Black Riders sped into Bree upon their black beasts. Their destination was clear to any who watched from the side: The Inn of the Prancing Pony.  
  
Finally reaching the hobbit rooms, the Black Riders dismounted their horses, following each other's actions in a single line. Coming to the small, round, and very wet, door, a thin voice was heard from the leader of the line of Black Riders.  
  
"Open, in the name of Mordor!" it commanded. Not waiting for a second, it shoved down the door, letting it fall in the oozing mud that was everywhere.  
  
Coming in, they followed behind each other, like a pack of wild dogs. Walking into the bedrooms where the hobbits were sleeping, silence hung; only did the light clanking of the Riders' footsteps were to disturb the tranquility of the room. The hobbits lay still in their small beds, obviously comforted in their dreamland; unaware of what fate awaited them.  
  
Going to each of the hobbits' bed was a single Black Rider. Reaching down in unison, they drew their metallic swords, the clanking if the metal against the sheaths was quite loud. But nonetheless, the hobbits lay peacefully sleeping. Slowly, the Black Riders raised their swords vertically, high above the hobbits' bodies. Waiting for a moment, they all stood motionless, but hesitation in their minds was nowhere to be found. For the Nazgul had no minds: only a will to serve their lord, Sauron.  
  
Waiting no longer, they released their hold, bring down their swords upon the innocent bodies of the hobbits, slashing and tearing away at them. They continued their grueling method for some moments, never quickening or slowing the pace of the thrashes to the hobbits. Finally, they stopped; noticing something was amiss.  
  
Reaching down, they quickly ripped the sheets from the hobbits' beds, only to find they had been deceived. The shrill and maddening cry was heard throughout the entire town of Bree.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
In the window, where a single candle stood lit, was Strider; watching the hobbit house being emptied of the nine Black Riders in the distance. In a shadowy corner lay Aniron, seeming to be asleep: though, no sleep could come to her that night. For the one thing she had the slightest fear for, was near her.  
  
At the first cry of the Nazgul, Sam awoke with a startle. For all the while he slept, they haunted his dreams. Merry and Pippin, too, awoke with a horrified expression vacating their faces. On the corner of his bed sat Frodo, gravely watching Aragorn as he listened to the piercing screams of the Black Riders. Concerned deeply, he finally spoke up.  
  
"What are they?" Frodo asked, worry deeply engraved in his once-to-be light and fair face.  
  
Strider turned his head slowly to Frodo, still watching from the corner of his eye the Ringwraiths. Finally, he gave his full attention to Frodo.  
  
"They were once men. Great kings of Men." Strider paused, looking down to Aniron who now returned his gaze. She continued for him.  
  
"Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question." Aniron said darkly, retrieving herself from the floor to join Strider by the window. "One by one, falling into darkness." She stopped, letting Strider tell the ending of the tale. "Now they are slaves to his will." Strider said grimly, turning his gaze back to the window. Outside his room on the paved sidewalks, the Nazgul were mounting their horses quickly, angered now. Finally, Strider turned back to the hobbits, though directing his eyes to Frodo.  
  
"They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring. Drawn to the power of the One." Strider paused once more, now his attention was all focused to Frodo. Though he wanted, Frodo could not turn away from the ranger's intense eyes. "They will never stop hunting you." At those words, the very blood in Frodo froze.  
  
"Well," Aniron said with a sigh, "I suggest you all get rest. Rest while you can little hobbits.." she paused. "..it'll be at least six days until we get to there."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The morning light was rising through the windows as Frodo and Sam gathered their belongings. Many thoughts crossed through their minds as they headed down the stairs: for this would maybe be their last time at Bree. That thought especially scared them.  
  
Coming out in the open of Bree, the hobbits followed in a line behind Strider and Aniron. Sam ended the line with a small, poor-looking pony they had bought from Bill Ferny: a much despised and mistrusted man, more than likely a spy for Sauron. And as they left, Ferny sat behind a bush along the path, calling out to them all.  
  
"Morning, longshanks!" he said sarcastically, directing his comment to Strider. "Off early? Founds some friends at last?" Strider nodded, but did not answer.  
  
"Lady Desire!" Ferny called to Aniron. "Haven't seen you for a while. You, too, got some new friends?" Aniron shook her head, following Strider's actions.  
  
"Morning, my little friends!" he said to the others. "I suppose you know who you've taken up with?" Ferny asked slyly, a wry smile coming to his face. "That's Stick-it-naught Strider, that is! Oh! Can't forget, Lady Desire, here! Though, I've heard, for both of them, other names not so pretty. Watch out tonight!" Ferny paused, now directing his looks and comments to Sam.  
  
"And you, Sammie, don't go ill-treating my poor, old pony! Pah!" he spat.  
  
At that, Sam turned quickly and replied, taking a break from his apple.  
  
"And you, Ferny! Put your ugly face out of sight, or it will get hurt!" With a sudden flick of his wrist, the apple left Sam's hand, hitting Ferny square in the nose. He had ducked too late, and curses were heard from behind the shrub. Sam shook his head regretfully and said to himself:  
  
"Waste of a good apple." and running up to catch up with Frodo and the rest to begin their journey with Strider and Aniron in the Wild.  
  
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	7. Strider's Shortcuts and Pippin's Doubts

Coming out of Bree, the hobbits are following Strider and Aniron, not too close though. Watching the rangers intently, many thoughts crossed Frodo's mind. He now realized, fully, what he had gotten himself involved in.  
  
"Where are you taking us?" Frodo asked, worry sketching into his face.  
  
"Into the Wild." Strider replied simply, not pausing from his climb to stop and look to the hobbit. Aniron followed close behind, not having much to say. For too many things were going round in her head.  
  
Coming up to Frodo was Merry; a little worry is hidden in his eyes as he whispered to Frodo.  
  
"How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf's?" Merry whispered. "And also, this Aniron. She seems a little...suspicious. Don't you think?" Merry paused, waiting for Frodo to reply. When he didn't, he began again. "Frodo?"  
  
"We have no choice but to trust him; and Aniron." Frodo replied, his eyes directed only on Strider.  
  
"But where is he leading us?" Sam interrupts.  
  
"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee." Strider said over his shoulder. "To the House of Elrond."  
  
A smile came to Sam's face. Seeing the smiling face of Samwise caused Aniron to chuckle quietly to herself. It was the first smiling face she had seen in it seemed ages.  
  
"Did you hear that? Rivendell! We're going to see the elves!" Sam exclaimed.  
  
Strider stopped for a moment, surveying the land and giving the hobbits time to catch up. When he looked back, he saw them unpacking their kitchen utensils. He guessed what their minds were on, but it wasn't that hard to figure. Aniron went ahead, scouting the land around them.  
  
"Gentlemen! We do not stop 'til nightfall." Strider said, a little impatient.  
  
"What about breakfast?" Pippin inquires innocently.  
  
"We've already had it." Strider argues with the hobbit.  
  
"We've had one, yes. What about second breakfast?" Pippin replies back. Strider shakes his head and continues forth as Sam, Frodo, and Merry put away their things.  
  
"Don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip." Merry said jokingly to Pippin.  
  
"What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them doesn't he?" Pippin said frantically.  
  
"I wouldn't count on it." Merry replied in a slight sarcastic tone. Suddenly from over a bush, Strider tossed an apple and Merry caught it. Handing it to Pippin, Merry patted him lightly on the shoulder; quite amused at Strider's little trick. Suddenly, another apple was airborne, hitting Pippin in the head. Looking up bewildered, Pippin searched the sky.  
  
"Pippin!" Merry shouted impatiently. Aniron, waiting at the foot of the hill, laughed aloud at the scene. To the innocent ears of the hobbits, her laughter was very comforting. None of them could describe what it was so soothing about her voice. But, none of them complained either. For this was something they needed as they started the long, dreadful journey.  
  
The sun was hidden behind the clouds all day long as they all traveled. Overcast skies gave away an omen of bad news: rain and storms. Luckily, it never occurred.  
  
Though the hobbits had nothing to fear about rain, they had the two rangers they could trust, right? Sam always shook his head at that; especially where their journey was going. Suddenly, Sam noticed what they were heading into.  
  
"Where are you taking us? What is this?" Sam asked, stopping in his tracks.  
  
"As I said before, Master Gamgee, into the Wild. This part has no name. Though I consider it a shortcut." Strider replied, making his through the debris.  
  
"Not a "shortcut", I hope," said Pippin. "Our last short cut through the Old Forest nearly ended in disaster!"  
  
"Ah, but you had not got me with you then." Strider laughed.  
  
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	8. The Departure of Avari

Even at Strider's words, Pippin still felt no comfort. But, he did not argue; he just followed like the rest of them.  
  
"Do not fret, Master Took," Aniron said gently, falling back to the hobbit's side. "Just look forward to coming to Rivendell. It truly is a grand place."  
  
"Have you been there before? Can you tell us about it?" Sam interrupted, much interested in the conversation. Aniron gave a soft laugh and fulfilled Samwise's request.  
  
"Yes, I have been to Rivendell. I spent quite a time there once. I do not know where I should begin, but it seems I must...." she paused, looking to Sam. "....or you'll never be satisfied, will you?" Sam blushed and nodded quickly, his face burning with embarrassment.  
  
"Elen sila lumenn omentilmo e Rivendell." Aniron whispered to the hobbits. A confused look came to their faces, all but Frodo. Though, he only understood half of what she said. Frodo knew some Elvish from Bilbo, but Aniron spoke it very well and very fast.   
  
"A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting in Rivendell. Words in Common Tongue, Elvish,or Westerness could not describe what Rivendell brings to the heart. Physically, it is beautiful. Tranquil do the waters flow through it. It seems you could be lost in its time for ages and never realize it. The Elvish housings and beautifully carved and made by the Elves who were first coming in the First Age; before Sauron and his evil servants had stepped foot into the land." Aniron paused, taking in a sigh, getting lost in her thoughts.  
  
"The moment your eyes lay upon the fair land, you will love it. Fair is Rivendell in all ways. Nae saian luume. (It has been too long.)" Aniron spoke softly, falling back into the Elvish tongue. "My heart burns to see it again. But, soon enough, we will all come to it safely. The lushness of the green and gold moss that surrounds it is even beautiful. She lays her rays on it it seems forever. A warmth comes to heart, body, and mind when you're there. And the elves!" Aniron exclaimed, almost knocking the poor hobbits to their hairy feet by such a surprise.   
  
"Sam, if I can recall, I believe you want to see Elves. I think, you of everyone, shall be most pleased. The Elves are quite mannered and fair of all people near. They are most just and gracious. And Master Elrond! When you meet him, you feel a tingle of a feeling I cannot describe run through you. He, being over three thousand years old, is the fairest of all Elves I have met. Well....." Aniron paused, thinking whether she should say what was on her mind. Strider knew and intended for her not to say.  
  
"Antolle ulua sulrim. (Much wind pours from your mouth.)" Strider interrupted, taing the breath away from Aniron with such a negative endearment. He chuckled, quite amused at her reaction and continued. "We need less talk and more strength in walking. We must quicken our pace in order to reach Weathertop soon."  
  
"Amin feuya ten lle. (You disgust me.)" Aniron replied, softly smiling and continuing. "Strider's right. Let us continue quickening our walk so as to get to Weathertop soon."  
  
"What's Weathertop?" Merry asked, now feeling quite open to talking to the rangers. He felt as though he could really trust them.  
  
"It was once the great watchtower of Amon Sul." Strider replied sternly, ending all conversation until their destination was reached that night.  
  
********  
  
Coming to the foot of Weathertop, the hobbits now realized how large and powerful it was. They climbed up, good old Bill the pony standing guard at the bottom, breathless and weary; for the slope was had been steep and rocky.  
  
Coming to the top, they found a wide ring of ancient stone, their magnificent sculptings now crumbling to the brown-grassed, cracked, stony ground. They looked round in amazement; this was something they had never seen before. Nothing like this was to be found in the Shire.  
  
"I must take my leave now," Aniron whispered, staring out into the darkness that crept upon them.  
  
"Mani ume lle quena? (What did you say?)" Strider asked, coming to Aniron's side. She turned to him, not being able to take her eyes off the darkness in the distance.  
  
"Shhh." she whispered to him, motioning him to be quiet with her hand. Strider perked up, listening to the silence. In the distance, the cry of the Nazgul was heard.  
  
"Ta naa neuma (It is a trap)....." Aniron said, catching Strider's eye.  
  
"They will be safe. I will not let anything happen." he replied, trying to comfort his friend.  
  
"Tira ten rashwe. (Be careful.)" Aniron said, settling her pack on her back and the sword in its sheath. "Uuma ma ten rashwe, ta tuluva a lle. (Don't look for trouble, it will come to you.) Quel marth. (Good luck.)"  
  
Strider nodded, acknowledging her leave.  
  
"Aa menealle nauva calen ar malta. (May your ways be green and golden.) Tenna ento lye omenta e Rivendell. (Until next we meet in Rivendell.)" Strider replied softly, brushing away fallen hair from Aniron's face. She smiled and nodded. Walking away to the hobbits to give her fairwells, she stopped suddenly. Turning around to Strider, she held her fist tight, walking to him again.  
  
"Tessa sina ten amin. (Hold onto this for me.)" and with those words she reached out with her free hand, opening the palm of Strider's hand. Dropping into his hand was a silver ring with Elvish carved into it. The words on it were worn but still could be seen plain:  
  
"When the seas and mountains fall, and we come to end of day;  
In the dark I hear a call: calling me there, I will go there, and back again."  
  
"I shall guard it with my life." Strider said, putting the ring away in a pocket where it would stay until given back into the hands of Aniron.  
  
"I've trusted you with my life, Aragorn." Aniron began. "And I always will. You never let me down, and I know you never will. Now trust me, Aragorn."  
  
"I always have, Avari. I always have." Strider replied, a soft smile sketching into his dark, weathered face. Returning the smile, she moved to the hobbits, unpacking their things, worry crossing every thought in their mind.  
  
"My friends, I am afraid I must take my leave now." Aniron said, dropping to her knees to meet the hobbits' eyes.   
  
"Where will you be headin'?" Sam asked. For now he trusted the rangers deeply and realized his life was in their hands.  
  
"I'm going to Rivendell by myself. I'll have everything ready for you when all of you arrive in about six days. Don't worry. Strider will watch over you and guide you to Rivendell. Uuma dela......don't worry. I shall see you in six days and I look forward to our next meeting!" she added with a grin. Getting up, she pulled Frodo aside.  
  
"I'm most worried about you, Frodo. I take me leave, for now, giving you a piece of advice. Never put It on. For They are attracted to It. Just follow that and you'll be fine." she gave Frodo a quick hug and came to her feet. Gathering the rest of her things, she headed for the path that led down to the Wild. Strider ran to her before she left.  
  
"Asca. (Hurry.)" he said grimly. Aniron nodded and smiled.  
  
"Lissenen ar maska lalaith tenna lye omentuva. (Sweet water and light laughter till next we meet." And with those words, she fled down the dark path, ready for her lone journey to Rivendell, with the Wraiths close behind.  
  
Hope you're liking it! And I have to make this note to my certain readers who adore Aniron/ Avari, do not fret! She's not leaving the story! I could NEVER do that! ^_^ LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT CHAPTER COMING VERY, VERY SOON! Also, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!!! Thank you! ^_^ 


	9. The Path to Rivendell

Coming to the where the stony path of Weathertop ended with the dirt floor or the Wild, Avari stopped, hesistation coming forth in her mind. In the near distance she saw the dark shapes moving quickly towards the watchtower of Amon Sul. Panic suddenly serged through her body.  
  
"Amin sinta thaliolle e dagor, Aragorn. (I know your strength in battle, Aragorn.) Amin dele ten lle sen. (But I am worried about you and them.)" Avari spoke to herself, watching the darkness intensely. Suddenly, she gave a soft whistle, soft enough for the wind and grass to hear clearly. Over the path came the sound of hooves, galloping hard. Avari held her breath, not knowing whether what she was about to meet, was what she hoped for.  
  
Once it met her eyes, she smiled, walking forward to meet him.  
  
"Mae govannen, Sereg. (Well met, Sereg.)" Avari said quietly, patting the nose of the broad horse that galloped happily to her. She smiled softly, breathing gently. A light shone in her eyes as she stood there for those few moments stroking her friend. Finally, she mounted him, still loving on him much. Kicking him slightly, Sereg took to a quick and light gallop with Avari on the back of him. The horizon in the distance now turned fully black, the stars coming into view. Never turning back, she rode forward, seeming to never rest. In her ears, she heard the piercing scream of the Ringwraiths. Her breathing quickened and her heart sped as she pressed forward; so many thoughts swarmed her mind.  
  
"Aragorn......will you be able to protect them all? And what of Frodo? He is the one I most fear for; so much depends on him. But....he has no idea what he has placed himself in. Alas! Let them come safely to Rivendell!" she prayed, closing her eyes for a mere second, though to her it felt as an age. Harder on Avari pressed as the night rode on with her, and as the threat of shadow grew on her mind.  
  
********  
  
Under a stony covering, off to the side of the road to Rivendell, Avari layed, half in dream and half awake in reality. Sereg nuzzled her, to keep her awake, and she laughed, patting and getting him away from her at the same time. For that minute, her heart felt as if a burden had been lifted, causing some of the weight to be gone. He walked away and did not come back for a while as she talked amongst herself. She could not help but feel as if she should have stayed with them.  
  
"Should I have gone ahead? " she asked herself. "Yes, yes. It's what was planned from the beginning. But...." she paused, looking to each side of her as if someone watched and listened to her debate. "....the circumstances have changed. It was necessary." Avari shook her head, as if a great pain had shot through it, causing her to slightly lose her mind for a moment.  
  
"Cormamin lindua ele lle. (My heart sings to see thee.)" she said quietly, thinking of him. "Cormlle naa tanya tel raa ar vanimle sila tiri, (Your heart is that of a lion and your beauty shines bright,)" a noise disturbed her from the tall grass. Cautiously, she moved slowly to where it came from, only to be fooled by Sereg trampling and eating. She continued. "But....." Sereg finally came to her, walking with a stumble. She looked up to him with concern in her eyes. Avari first thought of maybe he had stepped upon a piece of stray iron or thorn. She got up, studying her friend thoroughly, unable to find the cause of his pain. Coming closer to him, a perculiar smell flowed through her nostrils.  
  
"Lle holma ve.... (You smell like a......)" Avari said, a expression of anxiety carved into her face. At that moment, Avari froze.   
  
Suddenly, she jumped to her feet, very much alerted now. This feeling of being watched did not leave her for it seemed hours. She watched and waited for anything. At the horizon, the Sun began to rise, lighting the face of the weary ranger.  
  
********  
  
A chill wind blew as the sun rose above the plains of the Wild. No noise was heard throughout the lonely fields. It sat empty, undisturbed. Only the wind shook the tall grass that was as far as the eye could see. A blue sky began to show as the grey parted.  
  
Surveying the distance she had covered, it surprised her how far she had reached in such a little time. It would have been at least six days with Aragorn and hobbits. But now that it was just her and Sereg......it would take half the time to reach Rivendell!  
  
Looking back to Weathertop, she thought she saw very small shapes moving out from it.  
  
"Finally!" she said with relief, letting out a deep breath of held air. But as Aragorn and the hobbits crossed her mind, so did the Wraiths.  
  
"I wonder what happened to them? Surely I would have awaken in hearing their screams." Avari pondered for a moment. Anxiety grew in her quickly.  
  
As quick as light, Avari mounted Sereg, giving him a firm kick to get a gallop out of him. All day she rode, only stopping once for a short while. The wind blew hard, playing firmly with her gold-like hair. The sun tanned and weathered her face as she pushed forth against it. The cold chilled her face beyond her bones.  
  
In the distance, a lone figure stood upon a black, statured horse. A chill ran through her body as she approached it. There it sat, like a statue, upon the black, powerful horse, watching......waiting. Shrouded in black cloaks, it turned its head, looking to the direction of Avari.  
  
"Ya naa tanya? (Who is that?)" Avari said, halting Sereg in an instant. A fear crept into her mind as she took her sword out, it clanking in the iron sheath. Her breathing quickened and a solemn expression came to her face. Suddenly, she heard it.  
  
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	10. Return to Isengard

"What took you so long, ranger?" a hoarse, yet scratching voice called out to her. Avari let a sigh of relief flow from her mouth, putting her sword back in its sheath.  
  
"Lle naa haran e nausalle. (You're a king in your imagination.)" Avari said, returning back a rather shrill call. "Yet your head is empty, orc." The orc threw his hood back in anger, his eyes gleaming a dark luminaire of Sauron's light. Giving a forceful kick to his horse, it neighed wildly for a moment, then rode hard and quick to Avari.  
  
As soon as the orc had reached her, he was taken fiercely by a unseen force. Jumping from his horse, he grabbed the arm of the ranger, trying to inflict as much pain as an orc his size could; Avari slightly flinched but let no expression of pain slide by her face.  
  
"You smell like a human, Avari." he said grimly.  
  
"What are you doing here, Gaanon?" Avari replied, looking away from him. Serge stirred uneasily as Gaanon came closer.  
  
"I was sent from Isengard; bringing word from Lord Sauruman." Gaanon paused for a moment, making a disgusting face to Sereg. Avari shifted swiftly, jumped lightly from her friend, and stood to face Gaanon. Giving Sereg a quick pat, she nodded him away; giving her and the roc some time to talk.  
  
"Talk quickly and silently: the Wraiths are near, I think." she said in a low voice. Her whole appearence and tone had changed now that she was alone with the beast from Isengard.  
  
"My Lord is restless, I can tell. He waits for you to return with news of them. Why have you been so late in coming?" Gaanon said, rather eyeing Avari suspiciously.  
  
"I have been held. Delayed you shall return word to him."  
  
"I shall return?" Gaanon said, an evil grin spreading across his black and dirtied face. Suddenly, the grin disappeared and an angry, flustered expession sketched its way into Gaanon.   
  
"I shall return! You dare order me!" Reaching out his long arm, he smacked Avari across the face, leaving her with his grimy handprint. Quick as light, she pulled two hidden, short, white knives from pockets stitched into her cloak. Grabbing Gaanon from the neck she pulled his face close to the daggers. Playfully, Avari drew on the orc's facing, causing him to quake with fear.  
  
"Forgive me, Lady Ranger!" he managed to choke out. Slowly, she released him from her grip.  
  
"But," he purposed, "I am not sorry for slapping you. You seriously believe I shall take back word to Sauruman, Sauruman the White! Take back word to him that you have been DELAYED! I would be tortured in his delight for your foolishness! Called many names!"  
  
"Son of Snakes! Cowardly dog! Feast of wolves! Gate bird! Many more names, not so pleasant!" Gaanon paused for breath, then began again. "I refuse to return to my Lord, telling him you were delayed and need more time."  
  
"So be it." Avari said quietly, drifting into her own thoughts as the orc continued.  
  
"You must come back to Isengard: talk with Sauruman himself."  
  
"I cannot." Avari replied calmly. "I have embarked on a quest, known only to me, Sauruman, and the Grey Company."  
  
"Death to the friends of the Grey Company!" Gaanon exclaimed. "And death comes to its leader, the wizard.....oh!" Gaanon stumbled over words as he searched for what name sent chills and shivers through him.  
  
"Gandalf!" Avari finished for him, now deeply concerned.  
  
"Oh yes! Gandalf the Grey! The Grey Pilgrim!" Gaanon laughed out. "A wizard indeed! Barely stood a chance against Sauruman! Well, now he has payed much that he owed for defying my Lord."  
  
"What?" Avari said slowly, trying to take everything in at once.  
  
"You have not heard? Oh yes! How could you? You've been away for so long, I suppose no one bothered to tell you! All have forgotten you!"  
  
"I hope they have...." Avari said under her breath. Gaanon paused, studying her for a moment, then began again.  
  
"I don't know the entire event, but he is prisoner last I saw. Prisoner of Sauruman. Prisoner of Isengard! He tried to stand against Lord Sauruman and was defeated. From what I have gathered before I left, my Lord was going to go to him at the top of the ring of the tower of Isengard where he lay weary, and offer him a choice! The fool, I first said! Of course, quietly to myself, but the fool he was indeed!"  
  
"Would he appreciate knowing that one of his most loyal orcs were talking foul about him?" Avari interrupted, a sly smile coming to her face.  
  
"Would he appreciate knowing that one of his most faithful humans was purposing delaying herself for some unknown reason, from the original business that was intended for her to carry out?" Gaanon replied sickly. Avari signaled him to continue and he did.  
  
"He was to give the wizard," at that word, "wizard", Gaanon chuckled; quite amused that Gandalf was considered a wizard. "two choices: one was to join with us, with Sauruman, with Sauron, and help overtake Middle Earth and all of its pathetic races. Or he was to have immediate death. Whether he has went to him yet, I do not know."  
  
"He has Gandalf prisoner? An omen of bad news indeed....." at that, Gaanon perked up. He now was very alert.  
  
"Bad news? What do you mean?" he asked inquisitively. Suddenly, his breathing heavied and he let her not answer.   
  
"Son of snakes! You were to betray us all, weren't you? You disgust me, human!" he spat at her and quickly drew a sword in which he hid behind him.  
  
"No! Though Gandalf was my friend, I am under Sauruman's order, worm!" she yelled, drawing out her own weapon as quick as light. The orc was blinded in the eyes by the beauty as it blazed.  
  
"Return to Isengard. If you do not pass me in getting there, I will let Sauruman know we have a spy within our league." Gaanon said with disgust, turning away from Avari to head back to his horse.  
  
"Trust me," Avari called aloud, running forth to Gaanon. "You will not pass me." And with those words, she brought her blade down upon the orc. A shrill cry of pain he let out as she dug her sword further into him. Black blood streamed down from his wound as he fell before her. He looked up at her and gave her one last warning.  
  
"Death to all friends of the Grey Company!"  
  
A/N: Sorry to end it here, but I must! LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT CHAPTER COMING VERY, VERY SOON! Also, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you! ^_^ 


	11. Coming Back to Old Memories

A day's ride it took to reach the safe borders of Rivendell; and Avari was very weary. Many thoughts swirled around in her mind as the day wore on, as her journey to The Old Land of the Elves, as she had heard it, neared an end.  
  
She thought about the hobbits and how they faired after she left the watchtower of Amon Sul. She thought about Sauruman, and if he would ever find the true reason why Gaanon never returned back to the tower of Isengard. And she wondered about Aragorn.  
  
All her life she had known him as the ranger who held many secrets. He was her friend and watcher. And his heart belonged to the fair, Arwen Evenstar: the elven daughter of Elrond. Alas! There was so much more to Aragorn than met the eye. And there was one more thing that troubled her: why did Aragorn turn away from becoming king of Gondor?  
  
Avari knew that Aragorn was not aware she knew so much of him. She wanted to know why he turned from his rightful place: from his throne at Gondor. But, knowing he would not answer her, she never tried. Suddenly, her mind all focused upon Gondor: her beloved country.  
  
Gondor was where she had grown up all her life. It was the only place where she had people that cared about her, or so she was told.  
  
********  
  
"Halt! Who passes below?" a deep voice rang out in the dark, damp night. The pale moon lit barely the sky as a rider passed underneath it.   
  
"It is Mithrandir. I have returned to Gondor as I said. I wish to speak with Denethor! And quickly!" Gandalf commanded, not wanting to waste a moment of his time.  
  
"Mithrandir! As you wish! Are you with no company? By yoursel-" the guard paused as he saw a small body, wrapped up in a thick, black cloak. "You are not alone! I cannot allow any strangers within our borders of our city, Osgiliath. Who is with you?"  
  
"A small child, she is. No harm could she endure on your great city! Allow her to pass; allow this helpless child to receive care from your great city!" the wizard commanded, becoming quite ill at having to wait upon the guard's decision.  
  
"It is our law, I am afraid. 'No stranger to the land of Gondor shall pass before its gates of its great city, Osgiliath.': by order of Denethor. Whether it be an old, feeble man or small, luminous child." the guard called out, a guilty tone hidden in his voice was coming out.  
  
Gandalf's anger and patience was wearing thin. Time was running.  
  
"Ass! Fool! I have not the time nor patience to deal with you! I shall give you a choice you make quickly: let me pass through your gates PEACEFULLY with the harmless child that sleeps now, or let me set afire your gates as to let me through to your steward. Speak now! and swiftly!" Gandalf boomed. The guard, now in fear, caved in to the wizard's demands.  
  
"According to your wish, Mithrandir! Open the gates!" a small voice was overheard talking to the watcher.  
  
"Strom! You dare defy Lord Denethor? Forfeit your life shall be if you let him pass with the child!"  
  
"I would rather my life be forfeit for this, Daclamitus," Strom paused at using his strength to open the gate in which Gandalf and the child raced through to reach their destination, "than to have Osgiliath's gates burned to the ground and catch afire anything near. Get back to you post! This shall be my undoing: not yours!"  
  
Upon the opening of the gate, Gandalf sped through swiftly, not heeding any who stared and whispered about the return of the Grey Pilgrim.  
  
********  
  
That was the most of Avari's memory of when she was taken to the High City of Gondor. Though, there were few moments that she could remember after her arrival.  
  
********  
  
"Gandalf," a voice rang out. Young Avari awoke with a startle at the booming voice. "You do not seriously think we can care for another at times like these? And especially bringing a young child so close to the Dark Land....." the man paused for a moment, as if shaking off shudders and shivers from a dark thought. "....so close to Morder." he whispered.  
  
"My Lord, please," Gandalf began, changing the tone of his voice to a more persuasive one. "Time is running short in my errands, Denethor, and I certainly cannot take her with me. She will be no trouble at all, to that I give you my promise. Give her to a family in needing of another child; a well-trusted family, one that you may know well. I would take her to Rivendell, but-"  
  
"Rivendell?" Denethor interrupted. "Indeed tales tell of how a fair place it is, but you believe the child would be safer there? Believe me, I know my lands isn't the safest at the moment, but you need no worry about the people's safety. Is it, you think, Elves can be more trusted than Men?" Denethor paused waiting for a reply.  
  
Gandalf wearily shook his head and let a sigh flow.  
  
"Lord, I do doubt the race of Men; nor do I doubt the race of Elves. They are both equal in mine eyes."  
  
"Humph!" Denethor snorted. "Well, the child would be as in Gondor, than in any other place upon Middle Earth....except that of-"  
  
"That place has been named enough for one night!" Gandalf interrupted. "So your answer is that you will take this small, harmless child into your land and keep hre protected until she takes her leave?"  
  
"And if she never does?" Denethor asked quickly.  
  
"Then there will be no more discussion." Gandalf finished abruptly. "Yet I believe she will leave you lands, but not unloved. I'm sure that you will find her charming and loving as she grows. She will probably be one of your most trusted." Denethor turned away, drifting into his own thoughts as Gandalf continued.  
  
"Give her to a well-known and trusted family. I'm sure you have aplenty. And if you do not find any willing to take her in, keep her yourself: as your own child. For I am sure Boromir and Faramir would not mind having an addition."  
  
"How did you find her? Did you know her before?" Denethor asked swiftly and commanding, changing the subject rather quickly.  
  
********  
  
As Avari looked up from the trodded path below Sereg's feet, the waters of the Loudwater were flowing swiftly.  
  
"Rivendell...." she whispered to herself, stopping Sereg to observe what stood still and silent about her.  
  
"Cormamin lindua ele lle. (My heart sings to see thee.)" Avari smiled lazily as her eyes wondered abroad the lush land that surrounded her.  
  
Beyond the the great river that divided the outer world from the beautiful Rivendell, a light shone through the forests of trees and water. Green moss, leaf, and plant was everywhere. Gold in the sea of trees lay hidden, only to those who knew the land well. Animals lie secretly, watching the slightest movement very friendly. The lushness of the water that treated the land invited anyone so lightly, that none could turn away from its mesmorzing power. Behind every tree, rock, and grain of sand and soil that lay compacted in the lands of Rivendell his a secret: a secret of happiness; a secret of sorrow and melancholy; and a secret of mystery.  
  
There was, however, one thing that troubled Avari's mind as she approached. What would the Elves say of her when she entered their home?  
  
It had been so long since she had spoken with them. It had been so long since....she had loved them.  
  
A/N: A big thank you to everyone who had been keeping up with my story and reviewing!!! Also, a big thanks to Trishette for giving me advice on how my story was! Anyways, LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT CHAPTER COMING VERY, VERY SOON! Also, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!!! Thank you! ^_^ 


	12. An Alliance Once Existed

Entering Rivendell, a luminaire of golden light shone through the sea of trees that encircled the village. It sat tranquil though the waters running through it bustled into the atmosphere, causing great commotion. Upon Sereg, Avari sat awed and stunned. It had been a very long time since she had visited Rivendell: since she had visited and befriended Elves.  
  
A sigh of relief flowed freely as she rode forth into the quaint village. Around her she saw the race that occupied the region.  
  
"So beautiful they are...." Avari said to Sereg, giving him a slow stroke through his mane. As she rode through, whispers spread quick as fire.  
  
Coming to a great hall that stood beautifully carved in an Elvish fashion, stood two, powerful guards: silver helms shone brightly upon the crown of their heads, the blonde-shining hair flowed freely from underneath their protection. Gleaming breastplates they wore proudly, standing straight and tall against the magnificent stone creation. White tunics hung, pressed against their sleek, muscular bodies as they made no movement: still as statues. So fair was their skin as it shone pale under the dim light that shone through. And their eyes! Icy blue were the guards eyes that watched intently its surroundings. For word quickly spread that a vistor approached and everyone was very much alert.  
  
Approaching the great, stone hall, Avari dismounted Sereg: for no animal was allowed within the Great Hall. Grim eyes were bestowed upon the stranger as she stood outside the dark doors, waiting for permission to take leave, where Elrond, great and wise Elrond, awaited her. For he knew she would come. So many thoughts rushed into Avari's mind as she waited on the guards: one had left their position to give news to their lord of their vistor. So many memories of Rivendell that she had experienced years before rustled in her mind. Would Elrond accept her again? She wasn't here for her sake, but for Aragorn and Frodo and the other hobbits. But would he take that?  
  
********  
  
"Please! I beg of you Lord Elrond, please! I, we, need the aid of the Elves!" Avari begged, her eyes showing a pale, icy light of the think layer of tears that began to settle.  
  
"I am sorry, Avari. It cannot be helped. My people cannot travel so far out. These times now are not safe; nor will oncomings either." Elrond replied grimly. Finally, tears flowed frely from the melancholy eyes of the young woman that stood before the great Elf Lord.  
  
"I fall upon my knees, begging you for aid and help....and you....you turn away? What happened to the Elrond that was once great friends with Men, during the most evil times known in Middle Earth!" she cried out. "Or did he turn away from all and only tended to the needs of HIS people?"  
  
Elrond stood silent, watching and listening to Avari.  
  
"Lle tela? (Are you finished?)" he said suddenly. Avari made no reply.  
  
"Amin hiraetha. (I'm sorry.)"   
  
"Amin uuma tualle. (I don't care.)" Avari replied sharply, wiping away the tears that tore away at her face.  
  
"Amin n'rangwa edanea. (I don't understand your Men.)" Elrond said simply.  
  
"Uuner uma, n'dela no'ta. (No one does, don't worry about it.)" Avari said coldly, turning away from Elrond. "Heruamin.... (My lord....)" Avari began, heading towards the cold doors. Everything in the Great Hall now seemed dark; everything had lost its soft light.  
  
"Gondor needed the aid of our friends. We called upon Rohan, yet they could do little. We have no close others, except for the Elves. I traveled from my great city, Osgiliath, to come and beg of the wonderous Lord Elrond for help. Gondor is falling right before our eyes!" Avari screamed, stepping close to Elrond, meeting him eye-to-eye. "Gondor is falling before everyone's eyes! Minas Tirith, the White Tower, will fall and with it, the spirit and people of Gondor....yet, you cannot help. You cannot take you people out of your fief, Rivendell, and help out a friend of the Elves: so be it." Avari paused, shaking her head and now pacing to and fro.  
  
"There was once, as I heard, a great alliance between Men and Elves. Though, that was very long ago. I suppose, that alliance will never exist again....so be it. Gondor....will not fall! Whether with help from our friends or not! Gondor is strong! Gondor will not fall!"   
  
********  
  
"Pass through." the Elf guard said firmly, watching Avari's every movement.  
  
A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is short, but I thought the next one deserved its own title! LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT CHAPTER COMING VERY, VERY SOON! Also, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!!! Thank you! And, thank you countessrockz (you know who you are) for helping me out so much!!! ^_^ 


	13. Talking with a Lord

Bowing her head, she nodded grimly towards the guards and stepped on to the stoned path that lead into the dimly-lit hallway where her destiny with the race of Elves awaited her.  
  
Looking to her sides, she gazed at the wonderous hall in which the Lord of Elves in Rivendell stayed during daylight hours. It stood tall and mighty, just as Elves were described to her while she stayed at Minas Tirth as a child.  
  
********  
  
"Uncle!" young Avari shouted. "Uncle Orel! Tell me about Elves!"  
  
"Well, little Avari," Orel boomed out, a deep laughter light on his voice. "Elves...." he paused for a moment, studying the young girl. Then he began again.  
  
"It has been a long time since I've talked with any other race, other than Men of course! But, from what my old memory can recall, I'll tell you:"  
  
"Fair and beautiful: that is what Elves are, indeed! Tall, wise and ancient they stand. Clad in silver and grey cloaks that shine and shiver in the sun and moonlight. White tunics that glow and give off a pale but invitin' glow. Long, flowing hair that seems sunkist by everythin' that lays eyes upon it. 'Tis true! Their skin shines a fair radiance. And their eyes! Oh! Their eyes shimmer like morning dew on a lily pads in a small pond or river." Orel paused, taking a enormous sigh as he drifted easily back into old memories. Suddenly, an uneasiness overtook him as he stared into the wide, light-hearted brown eyes of the young girl that sat in front of him, listening with intensity.  
  
As if in a vision, Orel saw before his eyes, a young, strong woman. She beheld the treasured sword of their family: one of the treasured swords of the Dunedain. The young woman beheld the gleaming Elenea: The Stars of the North.  
  
"Dunedain....."Orel whispered aloud accidentally. Avari looked at him puzzled.   
  
"Dunedain? Are they a race of Elves, too?" she replied excitedly.  
  
"Huh?" Orel said surprised. "Oh no! They....are long-forgotten. I think we've had enough talk for one night, Lady Avari." Avari giggled as her uncle addressed her as "Lady Avari".  
  
*******  
  
Looking before her, she met the dark eyes of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. A tremble began to quake her fierce body as she gazed with awe.  
  
"Nae saian luume. (It has been too long.)" Elrond quietly spoke. Avari bowed before him, with a longing in her that seemed now in an odd way, satisfied.  
  
"My lord....I-"  
  
"I know why you have come." he interrupted her. "It is about the Ranger and hobbits. And the one hobbit that carries It." Avari nodded willingly.  
  
"My daughter, Arwen, has went out, seeking the group." A shadow passed over Elrond's face instantly.  
  
"What troubles you, my lord?" Avari asked innocently. The Elven lord glanced at her quickly and begun again.  
  
"Malia ten' yulna vasa? (Care for some drink or food?)" Elrond asked, avoiding the young woman's question.  
  
"Nay. But I do demand an answer." she rebutted swiftly and coldly.  
  
Elrond pondered her words for a moment, thinking very hard on how to say all the thoughts that were swirling in his mind.  
  
"The time of the Elves is over....my people are leaving these shores and going onto the Undying Lands. We can no longer help every one of our friends when they beckon. Believe me, we are worthy people, but there is not much we can do any more." Avari watched in horror as he continued.  
  
"The enemy is growing stronger with every day's pass. This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves!"  
  
"But with help from the Elves, all of our allies may puncture wounds in it!" Avari fought back. "Will you and your worthy people help us?" A pale light shone in her eyes.  
  
Elrond began pacing to and fro, thinking deeply of Avari's question.  
  
"Do not just think of it as my request! Nor the Hobbits of the Shire; nor Aragorn of the Dunedain; nor just as any Men, Elf, Dwarf, or any other races' request! Think of it as fate's request...."  
  
Elrond froze at Avari's words.  
  
"Fate? Is it fate that led us to this condition that Middle Earth is in? Is it fate that led Sauron the Deceiver back to his tower of Barad-dur in the Land of Mordor? How can you put so much trust into fate, if it has led all races of Middle Earth to such a gloom?"  
  
"And is it fate that led Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, to have such a distaste towards the races of Middle Earth?" Avari slowly finished for him. Suddenly, she had a fire in her that could no longer be tamed.  
  
"What has happened to the fair Elves that walk this Earth nowaday? 'Fair and beautiful: that is what Elves are, indeed!' that is what I was told when I was a small child! What has happened to their fairness and beauty? Have they all rotted away inside, such as you! Can you not keep some of your people from the Undying Lands yet and convince them that their friends are in dire need of their help? If Sauron is to take the Ring, will the Undying Lands stay the safety for the Elves then?"  
  
Stopping in his pacing at once, Elrond slowly turned to Avari who stood very strong and beautiful: reminding him of the once-known race that is not long in the past. As he gazed at her in wonder, she finally broke the silence.  
  
"Amin irma fion a est. (I would like some wine and rest.)" Avari said coldy, though a cry in her voice was hidden only to those who could not see and hear the true Ranger.  
  
"Manka lle merna. (If you wish.)" Elrond replied. Suddenly, a guard swiftly threw open the doors to the hallway.  
  
"Heruamin! (My Lord!)" the guard took no notice of Avari as he went on. "Your daughter, Lady Arwen, has returned from the Wild! She has brought with her, a Hobbit from the Shire, in desperate need of your attention! Come quick!"  
  
"Frodo?" Avari said, as fear swept through her. "What has happened?"  
  
The guard gave a grave look to Elrond and Avari.  
  
"The Wraiths had gotten to him first."  
  
A/N: Finally, an update! Well, I hope you're enjoying it! LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT CHAPTER COMING VERY, VERY SOON! Also, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!!! Thank you! Also, another HUGE thanks to countessrockz! ^_^ Again, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you! 


	14. Tale of Weathertop

"The Ringwraiths..." Avari whispered.   
  
"Where is my daughter?" Elrond commanded, ignoring his guest now.  
  
"She has came back; it was Arwen Evenstar who brought the Halfling here. His wound is deep and evil. My lord, you must come quickly. I do not believe he has much time."  
  
"Where is Frodo?" Avari broke in. "Where is the Halfling? What has happened?"  
  
"Not now," Elrond replied, "Your time now, Avari, is to be spent waiting. I must tend to Frodo immediately. Focus your mind upon other things.   
  
"Asca, Eocrin. (Hurry, Eocrin.)" Elrond commanded sternly. Avari followed, but was held by another guard.  
  
"Tampa! (Stop!)" she commanded, but Elrond was now out of the room and rushing to Frodo's aid. Avari's eyes blazed as she fought to be let loose, but the guard's strength did not weaken, nor his grip.  
  
"Let me go! I must go to Frodo! Lle tyava quel? (Do you understand me?)" she shouted. Her voice echoed through the empty hallways, seeming to never end.  
  
*******  
  
Sunshine beamed through the private room in which Avari rested.  
  
Upon the walls were white ivory, gleaming in the sunlight. It hung playfully, swaying to and fro as the gentle breeze blew through the open windows. Golden candlestick holders reflected light upon the sandy-colored walls, as the lit candlewicks burned hot, illuminating a soft warmth in the room.   
  
The surrounding walls were carved elegantly, the old Elvish designs shining. In the center of the room was spread the large, pure white bed. The covers wore Elvish symbols in shimmering silver and green. Behind the bed stood a copper statue of a young Elven woman, her arms spread wide, the robes flowing down her sides.  
  
Upon the bed laid Avari: sleep had taken her long before. But instead of pleasant dreams, filled with wine and laughter, nightmares overcome with Wraiths, orcs, Mordor, and beyond occupied her mind.  
  
"Death to all friends of the Grey Company!" Gaanon's voice shrieked.  
  
"Have you been there before? Can you tell us about it?" Sam exclaimed, his face brightened at the mention of Elves.  
  
"I've trusted you with my life, Aragorn. And I always will. You never let me down, and I know you never will. Now trust me, Aragorn..." her own voice whispered.  
  
"Avari..." she stirred uneasily. "Avari! Awake! The time has come! Awake!"  
  
  
  
*******  
  
Opening her eyes, an image of an old friend came into view. Puffs of smoke rising from his pipe, as his long, bushy eyebrows bristled under the grey-brimmed hat.  
  
"My eyes cheat me..." Avari groaned, trying to awake fully.  
  
"No," a familiar voice piped up, "They do no cheat you; that is, unless you see some other than an old friend."  
  
"Gandalf!" she cried out, sitting up in her bed.  
  
"Yes, Avari," Gandalf replied, softly smiling, "I have come to Rivendell. Surprised to see you, however."   
  
"The Grey Pilgrim you are, indeed, my friend." she said with caution. "Sut naa lle sina re? (How are you today?)"  
  
"That is an odd question to ask in times such as these. Nonetheless, I appreciate it. I have been better, is my answer."  
  
"It's comforting to know after these years you have not forgotten such simple replies." she added, smiling warmly at the wizard. "How long have I been sleeping?"  
  
"You have had a well-earned day's rest."   
  
"Well-earned?" Avari replied warily.  
  
  
  
"Elrond has told me of your conversation with him, just before Frodo-"  
  
"Frodo!" she exclaimed, "Alas! forgive me! Frodo, how is he? What had happened?"  
  
"Now now," Gandalf said slowly, "There is no need to stir voices. He is fine."  
  
"The guard said the Wraiths had gotten to him. Mani marte, Gandalf? (What happened, Gandalf?)" she asked, falling back into the Elvish tongue.  
  
"All shall be revealed in time. I do not believe Elrond would appreciate the tale to be told once again in his fair house. Once is enough."  
  
"Please, Gandalf. What happened?" Sighing heavily, Gandalf gave.  
  
  
  
"I will not recall the tale in full; only a briefing. You shall hear it all in time. But here is the brief that I will tell you from Aragorn's words.  
  
"After you departed from the company at Amon Sol, Weathertop known in the Common Tongue, the Hobbits and Ranger made camp near the lower levels."  
  
  
  
*******  
  
  
  
  
  
The Hobbits, weary from the long travel, flung off their packs and settled down. Strider opened a bundle, revealing four short swords. He hands them to the hobbits  
  
  
  
"These are for you." Strider said, handing them one by one. "Keep them close. I'm going to have a look around. Stay here."  
  
*******  
  
"According to Samwise, after Aragorn left, Frodo laid down and fell right to sleep. The rest stayed up for watch. During their watch, they became hungry and decided to light a low fire and fix a bite. Fools...It would later prove deadly."  
  
*******  
  
Huddled around the fire are Sam, Merry, and Pippin, cooking a light supper.  
  
"Can I have some meat?" Pippin asked, trying his hardest to satisfy his hunger. This was not a supper, not for a Hobbit at least. This couldn't even be considered a quick bite for an afternoon tea!   
  
"Okay," Merry replied, then turning to Sam, "Want some tomatoes, Sam?"  
  
"Great tomatoes," he added. Frodo awoke with a startle, turning to see the fire burning brightly in the darkness. Fear overcame him at being discovered.  
  
"What are you doing?" Frodo cried out, struggling to reach them.  
  
"Tomatoes, sausages, nice, crispy bacon!" Merry implied, showing his plate off to Frodo.  
  
"We saved some for you, Mr. Frodo." Sam replied innocently. Frodo panicked, pushing his way through.  
  
"Put it out, you fools! Put it out!" he cried, stamping the fire out with his own feet.  
  
"Oh that's nice!" cried Pippin frustrated, "Ash on my tomatoes!"  
  
*******  
  
"It was their own folly and foolishness that almost caused their end."  
  
*******  
  
Suddenly, a Nazgul cry pierced the darkness. Startled, the hobbits jumped up, looking over the lip of the hollow. In the darkness below, they saw the shadows which they feared: five Nazgul closing in. Coming together, they unsheathed the small Elvish blades. Frodo motioned the others up the steps, towards the ruins at the top.  
  
"Go!" he shouts, frantically.  
  
Coming to the top, they came together closely, back to back.   
  
  
  
"Where is Strider?" Frodo whispers hoarsely.  
  
Coming up the steps, the black robes flow to the ground. Surrounding the hobbits are five of the Nazgul.   
  
Unsheathing their long swords, the cold metal clanked against their metallic fingers. Coming in front of Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin prepare to defend him.  
  
"Back you devils!" Sam yelled, brandishing his sword.  
  
Jarring forth, Sam clashed swords with the Nazgul, but swiftly was thrown aside. Merry and Pippin close the gap revealing Frodo, but they, too, were cast aside.  
  
Backing across the hill, Frodo dropped his sword with a clatter, his body shaking uncontrollably. Stumbling, he fell backwards, trying to escape his pursuers. Backing against a fallen column, Frodo looks up: there was nothing there except an empty black robe, it seemed. Reaching into his pocket, Frodo felt the Ring.  
  
Immediately, the Witch King felt its presence and approached Frodo, drawing a long dagger hidden in the black robes. Frodo scrambled back, terrified. There is nowhere else to go.  
  
*******  
  
"The Ring took control of Frodo. A terrible thing to face the Witch King alone, but to take It out...is more than even I could fathom. But that is the terrible power of the Ring, and already, is has started to take effect on poor Frodo."  
  
*******  
  
Desperate, Frodo slipped on the Ring, disappearing from the naked eye: the world had changed.  
  
Looking up, the Nazguls' true form was revealed to Frodo, shining like ghostly kings. Slowly, Strider's words came to mind:  
  
"They were once men. Great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question. One by one falling into darkness."  
  
  
  
"Strider!" Frodo called out, but none could hear him. He was alone...  
  
"Now they are slaves to his will. They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead."  
  
"Strider!" he cried out, "Strider, help me!"  
  
"At all times they feel the presence of the Ring. Drawn to the power of the One."  
  
  
  
Frodo cried out, but no one heard him. He now, could not even hear himself.  
  
"They will never stop hunting you."  
  
Reaching out, the Witch King drew out his long hand. As if he were commanding, Frodo felt his hand pulling further and further away, the One Ring still upon it. But with desperate strength, Frodo pulls back, surprising the Witch King. With no time left, he drew his sword back and plunged it into the Hobbit's left shoulder, pinning him hopelessly to the ground.  
  
"O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!" Frodo cried out. Astonished and feaful, the Witch King pulled back, removing the dark blade. Suddenly, the shadowy figure of Strider lept into view, attacking the Nazgul with sword and fire. With little strength left, Frodo reached down and removed the Ring; reappearing in the middle of the chaos with an anguished scream.  
  
*******  
  
"If it were not for Aragorn, the Witch King would have gotten the One Ring, as well as the pleasure of finishing Frodo off, or leaving him to become as they: a Ringwraith." Gandalf whispered, his words lingering in the air.  
  
"Alas! What terrible news!" Avari sighed.  
  
"Indeed," Gandalf agreed, "Luckily, Aragorn arrived in time. If he were not there, things would have gone rightly amiss and it would be over. The Nazgul would have gotten the Ring, more than likely killed off Frodo and the rest, returned to Mordor," the candles hissed as Gandalf's voice lowered, "and we would be at the mercy of the Dark Lord."  
  
"How did Frodo come to Rivendell, especially in his condition. I do not doubt the skills of Aragorn, but even he would not have the speed to rush the Hobbit here, especially with his extras."   
  
"Oh yes. For it was Arwen Evenstar, the daughter of Elrond, who is to be thanked for carrying Frodo here. She was sent to find them, and with luck, arrived and carried him here to Rivendell, just in time. For Frodo was being drawn into the Shadow World..."  
  
Avari sat in silence, pondering the events that had happened. Gandalf sighed, taking a smoke from his pipe. Finally, he got up from his chair and began to walk to the door.  
  
"I believe enough has been told for now."  
  
A/N: Finally, an update! I shall continue this story to the end now; hopefully, my old readers aren't too mad at me. Anyways, look forward to the next chapter VERY soon! And PLEASE PLEASE review!!!! Thank you!!! ^_^ 


	15. Secret Council

Gandalf paused, observing Avari cautiously, as smoke crept from the corner of his mouth. Avari opened her mouth, as to speak of something, then closed it just as quickly.

"Is there something you want to tell me," said Gandalf, slowly, "Avari?"

"I amar prestar aen, Mithrandir, (The world is changed, Mithrandir,)" she began wearily. "I am afraid..." Her eyes became innocent, as they once were, "We will not win this war, Mithrandir. This will be the end of Middle Earth, for all."

"Is your hope so little in the strength of the free races, that you are quick to deal judgement to this war?" Gandalf replied alarmingly and stern. Avari stared aimlessly.

"And is your hope so strong in the strength of the free races that you believe we shall overcome this task and defeat the dark lord? Naa ta? (Is it?)" Gandalf took his pipe in one hand, pushing himself from his seat onto his feet.

"'Tis a fool's hope, my dear Avari; however, it is hope, nonetheless," he ended, walking through the door, wisps of smoke curling about the room now.

"Mellonamin... (My friend...)" she whispered, "War is coming; and you know, as well as I, we cannot win."

Coming out, Frodo walked with ease, an smile of awe upon his face; behind him, Sam followed closely.

"Frodo!" a light voice called out: twas Merry and Pippin.

"Frodo! Bless you! You're up!" said Merry, embracing him tightly. Pippin jumped up, making his way to Frodo, embracing him as well. It had seemed like an eternity since they had news of Frodo. Walking around the corner, Frodo paused.

"Bilbo..."

Bilbo turned and grinned, holding his arms out.

"Hello Frodo, my lad!"

"Bilbo!" Frodo replied happily, embracing him.

"There and Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale by Bilbo Baggins," said Frodo, leafing through the large book. "This is wonderful!" Bilbo looked on eagerly, occasionally focusing on Frodo.

"I meant to go back...wander the paths of Mirkwood...visit Laketown...see the Lonely Mountain again," his voice became tiring, "But age, it seems," Pause. "Have finally caught up with me," Bilbo finished, giving Frodo a playful smirk.

Frodo leafed on through the book, feeling as if he were a child again, back in Hobbiton. On one page, he stopped, looking at a map of the Shire; his face becoming saddened.

"I miss the Shire," he began, his voice holding back regret, "I spent all my childhood, pretending I was off somewhere else...off with you on one of your adventures!" Frodo paused, his voice now soft and melancholy. "My own adventure turned out to be quite different." Turning to Bilbo, he continued sadly.

"I'm not like you, Bilbo."

"My dear boy..." Bilbo replied, casting his arm around Frodo's shoulder.

Rubbing his head confused, Sam stared at the bags lying on the stone floor.

"Now what have I forgotten?" he said to himself.

Frodo arrived around the corner, a simple smile on his face as he watched Sam.

"Packed already?" he interrupted, startling Sam.

"No harm in being prepared," Sam replied, getting to his feet.

"I thought you wanted to see the elves, Sam?" Frodo chuckled .

"I do!" Sam replied eagerly.

"More than anything."

"I did!" Sam cut in, "It's just..." he paused, drawing closer to Frodo. "We did what Gandalf wanted, didn't we? We got the Ring this far to Rivendell and then I thought, seein' as how you're on the mend, we'd be off soon. Off home."

Frodo looked up innocently, a small smile hidden on his face.

"You're right Sam. We did what we set out to do," showing the Ring in his palm, "The Ring will be safe in Rivendell." He paused. "I am ready to go home."

Up in the balcony, Gandalf and Elrond watched below, the two hobbits.

"His strength returns." Elrond said, taking his eyes off Frodo.

"That wound will never fully heal," Gandalf replied, "He will carry it the rest of his life."

"And yet to have come so far, still bearing the Ring, the hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil." Elrond interrupted.

"It is a burden he should never have had to bear," Gandalf said with concern, "We can ask no more of Frodo."

"Gandalf," Elrond interrupted sternly, "the enemy is moving. Sauron's forces are amassing in the east-his eye is fixed on Rivendell." he paused, the tension growing. "And Saruman, you tell me, has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin-"

"My lord Elrond," Avari interrupted, walking slowly into Elrond's study.

"Avari," Elrond replied simply.

"Pardon my intrusion, but when shall a chance come that we may finish our..." she trailed off.

"We have other business to attend of," Elrond replied quickly. "Gandalf, Saruman's-"

"Treachery runs deeper than you know. By foul craft, Saruman has crossed orcs with goblin-men, he's breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard."

Avari stiffened, listening intensely. Gandalf glanced at her, as he spoke.

"An army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring."

She moved uncomfortably; feeling the eyes of Gandalf burning on her.

"This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves. We do not have the strength to fight both Mordor and Isengard." Gandalf broke his gaze, moving away from the both of them, now deep in thought.

"Gandalf, " Elrond called out, "The Ring cannot stay here. This peril belongs to all middle earth. They must decide now how to end it. The time of the Elves is over,"

Avari shook her head, as Elrond spoke.

"My people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we've gone? The Dwarves? They hide in their mountains seeking riches-they care nothing for the troubles of others.

"Then it is in Men that we must place our hope," Avari interrupted, stepping forth. Elrond glared, expressing a look of disgust.

"Men?" he asked, "Men are weak." Avari looked on in despair.

"The race of Men is failing. The blood of Numenor is all but spent. It's pride and dignity forgotten. It is because of Men the Ring survives."

Avari closed her eyes, hearing the unbearable. Calmly, however, she walked out. Elrond continued to Gandalf.

"I was there: it should have ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure. Isildur kept the Ring. The line of kings is broken. There is no strength left in the world of Men. They've scattered, divided, leaderless."

"There is one who could unite them, one who could reclaim the throne of Gondor," Gandalf spoke up. Elrond paused.

"He turned from that path long time ago. He has chosen exhile," Elrond said softly, turning to his balcony opening; in the distance, a rider approached.

"Boromir!" Avari called out from the courtyard. Dismounting his horse, Boromir, Son of Denethor, looked about, searching for his caller. A wide smile spread across his face as he saw Avari..

"What-what are you doing here?" he replied, opening his arms. Her face bright and joyous, she embraced Boromir.

"I've been called upon from Mithrandir, and you?"

"Strange...Lord Elrond has summoned me."

"Of what?"

"I..." Boromir paused, "Father called me to his side, telling me of a council Elrond of the Elves has called. Rumor spreads that the One Ring of Power has been found," he whispered excitedly.

"Who told him this?" Avari replied, her face becoming twisted. Boromir stopped, studying her.

"Why are you concerned?" he asked, a smile coming back to his face, "Understand what is happening! The One Ring is coming back to Gondor: to save it, to save us, Avari."

"He sent you only?" she asked, turning away from Boromir's face. Boromir breathed in heavily.

"Yes," he only replied.

"Leaving Faramir behind, as always-"

"It is not that-"

"Yes it is; he will never believe in Faramir's strengths." Her voice echoed in the distance, hollow.

Boromir opened his mouth, as to speak words of comfort, but stopped. He smiled apologetically, and walked on.

Entering the dark room, Boromir walked quietly, though his footsteps echoed. He paused, the painting of Isildur and Sauron catching his attention. Suddenly, he looked over, realizing another body in the room. He studied him quickly, and a small smile came to his face.

"You are no Elf." he said simply.

"Men of the South are welcome here." the man replied, shifting a book he had been reading to his lap.

"Who are you?"

"I am a friend of Gandalf the Grey."

Boromir smiled warmly, now.

"Then we are here on common purpose, friend." Boromir's smile dropped as he turned to a pedastal, reflecting light off of something. Walking to the shrine, a broken sword shines brightly. Boromir picked up the haft, staring at the blade with wonder.

"The shards of Narsil!" he said in awe, taking the sword in his grip. "The blade that cut the ring from Sauron's hand!" Unaware, he ran his finger up the blade; he jumped as it cut his finger.

"It's still sharp," he said in amazement. Slowly, he looked at the stranger, who now sat watching him intensely with sharp, grey eyes. Suddenly, Boromir's demeanor changed.

"No more than a broken heirloom!" Boromir said in disdain, returning the sword carelessly as it clattered to the ground. He paused for a moment, but walked on.

As morning broke, the Council of Elrond had been summoned. In a large circle, Gandalf and Frodo sat alongside a congregation of Men, including Aragorn, Boromir, and Avari; the Elves, as Legolas of the Mirkwood Realm and his kind; and the Dwarves, as Gimli, son of Gloin, and his kind. In the middle of the circle, stood a stone pedestal. Elrond was first to speak.

"Strangers from distand lands," he paused, "Friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate-this one doom," Gesturing to the pedestal, he spoke to Frodo. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

Frodo arised nervously, laying the Ring on the pedestal and returning to his seat; people around, began whispering. Suddenly, a voice spoke loudly.

"In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark," Boromir began. Avari watched with disdain. "But in the west, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: "Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found." Boromir rose from his seat, as if in a trance. Slowly, he reached out to the Ring upon the pedestal. "Isildur's Bane..."

"Boromir!" Elrond shouted. Gandalf jumped from his seat.

"_Ash Nazg durbatulûk..._ (One Ring to rule them all...)" Dark clouds shadowed the council as Gandalf continued intensely. Gimli reached for an axe as the scene intensified.

"..._ash Nazg gimbatul. Ash Nazg thrakatulûk agh Burzum-ishi krimpatul_. (One Ring to Find them. One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them.)" With a terrified look on his face, Boromir retreated to his seat. Elrond rubbed his head, a headache forming on him; Legolas breathed heavily, with a look of nausea across his face. Gandalf finished the Ring poem, and light began to return

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris," Elrond spoke with, almost anger.

"And I do not beg your pardon, Master Elrond," Gandalf said breathelessly. "For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil." Gandalf said, returning back to his seat beside Frodo. Frodo shifted uneasily.

"It is a gift," Boromir whispered, shaking his head. Avari sat speechlessly, an expression of anger across her face. Boromir continued, coming from his seat. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" He began pacing. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people, are your lands kept safe!" He paused, as if letting his words sink in for guilt. "Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!" he demanded.

"You cannot wield it!" Aragorn spoke up; for he had hardly been noticed. "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." Boromir looked at him condescendingly.

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Suddenly, Legolas jumped from his seat.

"This is no mere ranger." he said with intensity. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

"Aragorn?" Boromir stuttered. "This...is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas added. Both Avari and Boromir glared to Legolas. Frodo looked on in amazement, wide-eyed at Aragorn. Aragorn, looking tired and frustrated, spoke.

"Havo dad, Legolas. (Sit down, Legolas.)" he said, motioning the Elf. Boromir looked on.

"Gondor has no king," he said swiftly. "Gondor needs no king," directing his look towards Aragorn as he returned to his seat.

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf interrupted. "We cannot use it."

"You have only one choice," Elrond spoke, "The Ring must be destroyed." Gimli reached around for an axe, and jumps from his seat.

"What are we waiting for?" he shouts, bringing the axe down upon the Ring lying on the pedestal. His axe suddenly shatters into many pieces, sending Gimli onto the floor, leaving the Ring unharmed. Gimli looks to the Ring in astonishment.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came." As Frodo listens, he focuses on the Ring; suddenly hearing it's voice, speaking in the Black Language.

"One of you must do this." Elrond finishes. Avari listened, shaking her head

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Avari said softly, drawing the attention of the council. Boromir continued for her.

"Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there, that does not sleep." Boromir then enclosed his hand in the shape of a circle, continuing, "And the great Eye is ever watchful."

"'Tis a barren wasteland," Avari interrupted, lifting herself from her chair, "Riddled with fire and ash...and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume..." She paused, looking to Boromir.

"Not with ten thousand men could you do this," Boromir finished for her. "It is folly!"

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" Legolas shouted, leaping from his chair, "The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?!" Gimli interrupted, leaping to his feet, axe in hand.

"And if we fail, what then?!" Boromir shouted, rising to his feet. "What happends when Sauron takes back what is his?!"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" Gimli's voice rose. Suddenly, chaos broke forth in the council; all lept up, shouting, arguing. "Never trust an Elf!"

"Do you not understand that while we bicker amongst ourselves, Sauron's power grows?! None can escape it!" Gandalf shouted, while Boromir listened and argued back.

Frodo remained seated as the commotion rang; he watched the Ring upon the pedestal uneasily, seeing the angry figures of the council reflected on its surface. Suddenly, flames flared, engulfing the surface of the Ring: only, none saw it but Frodo. Gandalf glanced down to the hobbit, seeing his uneasiness. Frodo squirmed, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

"_Ash Nazg Durbatuluk! Ash Nazg Gimbatul! Ash Nazg Gimbatul! Ash Nazg Gimbatul!" _

Slowly, Frodo rose to his feet, determination dawning upon his face. Taking a few steps towards the arguing council, he speaks.

"I will take it! I will take it!"

The argument died down, as his words echoed. Gandalf closed his eyes heavily, as he listened to Frodo's statement. All turning slowly, they faced the Frodo astonished.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor," Frodo said solemnly, but then softening. "Though...I do not know the way."

Avari closed her eyes, suddenly feeling an overwhelming guilt. Gandalf walked to Frodo slowly.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins," he began reassuringly, "so long as it is your's to bear," He placed his hands upon Frodo's shoulders, comforting him. Aragorn rose from his seat quickly.

"If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will," he said approaching Frodo and kneeling before him, "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," said Legolas, joining them.

"And my axe," Gimli piped, looking grimly at Legolas as he joined them. Walking over slowly, Boromir still wore a mask of astonishment.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one," he said warily. Avari walked over, joining Boromir.

"If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done," she said softly. Frodo looked at her, confused and dazed.

"Heh!" a small voice shouted. From behind the bushes, Samwise ran the join the council; Elrond looked bewildered as the small hobbit entered. "Mr. Frodo is not goin' anywhere without me!"

"No indeed," Elrond said, smiling amusingly. "It is hardly possible to seperate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." Sam's face showed red, as he turned away, embarrassed.

"Wait! We are coming, too!" Emerging from behind the pillars, came Pippin and Merry. Elrond looked in astonishment, as Gandalf sighed, rolling his eyes.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry said content, joining Frodo, by his side.

"Anyway," Pippin began with a smile, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest...thing!" Merry's face dropped, as he whispered to Pippin.

"Well that rules you out, Pip." he said jokingly. Elrond studied them, with a satisfied expression.

"So be it: you shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"


End file.
